


The Story of Tonight

by Genie60



Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7233265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genie60/pseuds/Genie60
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Shot -Modern day AU set in New York City and  inspired by recent events. Ross Poldark is a young entrepreneur on the rise.  Not totally comfortable with his new found status, he finds love and understanding in the form of his executive assistant, Demelza Carne. It's fluffy and nice--I hope</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Story of Tonight

Ross Poldark aged 33, young, rich entrepreneur leaned against the frame of the floor to ceiling window, swirling the whiskey in his tumbler and looked down at the city below. New York City had been his home for the past six weeks and tonight this very successful business trip culminated in one final triumph. He looked at Central Park laid out in front of him, quiet and empty showing just a hint of the snow that started to fall. The lights of the skyscrapers shimmered much like the crystal award that was poised on the end of the marble topped bar. He turned his head and caught a glimpse of this symbol of achievement letting a slight grin come to his face. He walked slowly over to it and fingered the smooth, teardrop shaped prize. “Humanitarian of the Year” was emblazoned on the base. He continued to contemplate the meaning behind it, when he heard the door latch click at the keycard unlocking it. Moving behind the bar, he pulled out a split of Moet and a flute glass and began to un wrap the foil on the bottle trying to get it open quickly. Suddenly, a tall, leggy, woman with the most exquisite red hair was standing in the middle of the room. Ross watched as his assistant, and newly named girlfriend walked in, taking a moment to look around.

  
Demelza Carne, could easily pass as a model. Her alabaster skin was only out done by her eyes, a wicked combination of blue and sea green. The black satin and sequin dress complimented her figure and accentuated her face. She placed the plastic card and evening bag on the side table and pulled the wrap from around her shoulders as she and made her way to where Ross waited for her. She immediately noticed how warm and inviting he’d made the suite by filling it with vases of flowers reminiscent of her home in Cornwall. He caught her smile and was glad he’d remembered how much she loved flowers. The expression in her eyes confirmed her appreciation. “I love them, Ross,” she said softly, kissing him, “as much as I love you.” He smiled, grabbing her hand as he moved to the couch, handing her the drink while pulling her down to sit with him. She turned into his embrace, curling her feet under her. “This is much better,” Ross said, his lips nuzzling behind her ear, taking in her scent. Demelza was never one to overdo the perfume, but Ross loved the scent that was naturally Demelza: simple lavender, which she loved in all forms and a hint of Ivory soap. The combination was pure and embodied her in every way. His hand wrapped around her rib cage while his thumb traced the outline sequined trim on her bodice.

“Have I told you that I love this dress? It’s unique and delicate, like you”. Demelza turned slightly to look at him, one eyebrow raised. Ross smiled sheepishly and then moved in to give her a peck on the mouth. He started to pull away and she grabbed his cheeks that now showed a well developed of a 5 o’clock shadow. “Don’t go. Not yet.” Her eyes searched his face. He blushed and smiled. Under other less-hirsute circumstances, the single dimple creasing his cheek would have made an appearance. Instead, his eyes crinkled with happiness as he bent to her once more. This time, the kiss was intentional and sure. No hesitation as his mouth claimed hers, lips moving slowly to taste and possess. Demelza moved to reach her hand around his neck and pulled him closer, if that was possible. Tongues met and tasted. Both felt a humming in their bodies that had been locked during the past few hours. After several minutes, they came up for air, heads touching and hands stroking wherever they could. Demelza gently caressing the nape of his neck, and he knew she was inching her way up to get that to that man bun and release it so she could run her hands through his locks. Truth be told, he wanted her to do that as well: to free that basic part of him, just as she had freed something deep inside him as well. Yet, this slow build towards their complete reunion was a sweet torture that he knew she was enjoying just a little too much. Ross caught her looking at him and knew she recognized the expression on his face, a cross between amusement and physical strain. More so the latter since they had spent the past few hours in each other’s presence but unable to relax and be themselves. He knew she was ignoring his discomfort and couldn’t stop the soft grunt that escaped at her ministrations. Nor could he ignore the visible evidence that were the result of her tactics. The fondling of his neck became more forceful, and the small amount of control Ross had was slowly seeping away with each passing touch. Ross held steady and allowed her to slip out of his arms, as she turned her back and rolled her shoulders to get the kinks out.

Knowing that it was no use trying to play on her sympathy, Ross sat back. “Well, that’s one way to enjoy a nightcap,” he said, trying to readjust the already tight trousers he wore. Watching as Demelza slowly ran her fingers through her hair, in an attempt to loosen it from the amount of product that had kept it in place for the night, did not help his cause. He continued his assessment of her, amazed that her tresses took on such a vibrant shade of red in the soft light of the room. It contrasted with the ivory tone of her skin, and the blue of her eyes.

“I thought since you’ve been on good behavior for the past couple of hours,” she said throatily , “being the epitome of an “humanitarian” , you deserved a little something for your efforts. Especially since I saw how personable you were during that last turn around the banquet hall. Her lips twitched with amusement. “You looked like you were caught party crashing rather than the man of the hour. What was that about?”

“Dem, without you to hold, I found myself fingering my phone in my pocket.” Ross he realized how that sounded and let out a snort. He leaned forward and started to pull at the bow tie and unbutton the collar of his shirt and grinned.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound the way it did. I just meant it’s not quite the same”. His hand stopped half way down his shirt and moved to her knee. He slid his hand up the satin skirt, along the length of her thigh, trying in vain to feel the smooth skin that he knew was hidden underneath. Earlier she had commented that she wasn’t wearing anything more than a skimpy lace thong. He clearly hadn’t forgotten that as his body clearly reacted to the visual invading his thoughts. Being away from her for six weeks didn’t help either. The celibacy he’s been forced to endure needed to end and soon.

  
**~~~~~~~~~**

  
She lifted her hand and moved it to the back of his head, sliding it down the collar of his starched shirt, and massaged his neck with her fingertips. She idly played with more of the curls that started to escape his hair tie, teasingly restraining her need to let it loose. Demelza was impressed at the fact that he had been able to contain himself this long because she was fighting the same battle: keeping herself from just ripping the clothes off his back and having her way with him right here on the couch. She saw his eyes closing as he let her continue, despite the catch that had formed in his breath. “Oh Ross, that’s so sweet. And a load of rubbish,” she teased in her light British accent. “I’m going to bet you loved being the center of attention. Is it still a new concept for you?” She gave a playful tug at his hair and scooted away to the opposite end of the couch.

Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t quick enough. Ross caught her ankle and tried to drag her back to him. “Stop it Poldark!” she squealed, breaking out in the giggles, trying to kick him away. “This is a designer gown, on lone mind you and I don’t need it shredded because I’ve bruised your ego.”

Demelza found herself on her back with Ross hovering over her.” Very funny, Carne,” he said. “You forget I’ve already won a “Man of the Year” award from International Rotary, “Rising Entrepreneur” from Forbes and made Time magazines list of 100 most something. I can’t remember now. That came out right as I was leaving the UK to come here for all those development meetings.” He kissed her. “I was little distracted by the sendoff you gave me, remember? Demelza smirked as her mind went back to that last night before he left. They had just signed a multimillion dollar deal to provide water filtration systems to underdeveloped countries. They had been playing a cat and mouse game almost from the time Demelza started working for Ross. Flirting, little digs, working late because they didn’t want to leave each other company all led up to that night. The feeling of euphoria they both felt at being able to help others was contagious and the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface between them finally boiled over. It was the first time they had opened themselves up completely and without barriers. And it was the first time Ross told her he loved her.

“Perhaps you’re jealous, Deme. You really should be proud to have been on the arm of a multi millionaire and man of the people.” She swatted at him and Ross pinned her arms at her sides, bending in for another kiss.

  
Being in this position, with Ross practically lying on top of her, Demelza was reminded of her beginnings in Cornwall and a life that was a world away from this suite at the Plaza. When she answered that ad in the New York Times for a secretary, two years ago, she had no idea that her coming to New York would lead her to this moment. Her mind continued to play the movie of her life. Images of her mother dying giving birth to her brother; her father, drunk and taking a strap to her looped on repeat. Snippets from her days at school where being bullied and ridiculed for her wild red hair and hand me down clothes was a common occurrence. He continued to brush her lips with his mouth; holding back from his desire to take complete control even though is body was poised and ready. The strain of his body against the tuxedo pants was beginning to border on painful. He was about to go in for the kill, when Ross felt her body tense with distraction and so he stopped. He lifted his head up to look at her.

  
“Hey, where did you go?” he said, a look of concern crossing his features. He searched her eyes for something to give him a clue. Demelza just gazed up at him, wondering just as he did, how did we get here? How did this all happen? How does the poor immigrant girl and rich eligible bachelor find each other?

Demelza caught herself feeling guilty she was letting these thoughts invade her mind when she had this man, in all his hazel eyed glory, right here, in her arms. “It’s nothing. Truly. I just flashbacked to another life.” She put her hand up and smoothed it down the side of his face, slowly tracing his ear, giving him a warm smile.

Her touch was like a balm to his soul. Ross could tell by her vague answer that something was bothering her. He needed to get to the bottom of whatever was keeping her from totally being there with him if this night was going to turn out the way he planned. He needed to break the tension. “What? You’ve been lying on a couch in The Plaza before?” he asked, scandalized. When she didn’t immediately respond, he sat up rose to refill their drinks. He wanted a little distance from her and sat on the arm chair opposite the couch. From this perspective, he could look at her luminous face without hazarding a crick in his neck. So he stared at her, waiting for her to reveal the real reason she’d left him for a moment.

That comment did it and she let out a giggle. “No. Just…” Her voice trailed off and she moved to sit up. Her eyes caught a glimpse of his suit jacket draped on the back of the couch when she noticed the smudged makeup on the lapel. She picked up a napkin from the table, spit on it and tried to wipe it clean. “Ooh, Ross, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see this before, “she said apologetically. “I don’t know when this happened.” She rubbed furiously and Ross smirked at her efforts. Seeing his face, she gave up and placed the jacket back where she found it. Relaxing a little, Demelza plumped the pillows on the couch and lounged against them. She looked at him quizzically wondering why he moved to the arm chair. Ross said nothing, but sipped his drink, eyeing her over the rim and waited.  
Demelza knew what he was about and didn’t take the bait. “What do you mean, perhaps I’m jealous? “she said, a little huffily. “Of the awards? Or the parties that accompanied them? I couldn’t be at most of them because I was working.” She sipped her drink, her mind running through all the scenarios. “Rotary Club? Writing up the proposal for the Hurricane Sandy restoration project. Although all ventures listed in your tribute were the result of my work behind the scenes, keeping you on schedule, setting up teleconferences and luncheons, making sure your correspondence didn’t piss off a possible donor or developer. So actually I think part of all you awards and titles are mine.” She wriggled a little on the couch to get comfortable again. “And you didn’t seem to out of sorts that I wasn’t there for any of those dinners and ceremonies. Elizabeth seemed to keep you quite entertained.” She smiled; looking at him through her lashes, and took a cat-like sip of her champagne.

  
**~~~~~~~~~**

  
Oh she was good, he thought; bringing up the supermodel ex girlfriend as a way to totally deflect the incident at hand. Ross said nothing but he had to admit that the last comment niggled at him.  
She went on. “As for the Time Magazine cocktail party, where you obviously had been enjoying yourself at the open bar?” she smirked. “Ross, the interview on Page Six of the New York Post was...was”  
He put the glass down and looked directly at her. “If you must know, Ms.Carne, my phone never left my side at any of them and me texted you the entire night. When I saw what this award tonight was going to be, I wished more than anything that you were next to me on the dais. And when I walked off after the acceptance speech, I wished that I had said something about your part on the success of Poldark Enterprises.”

“That appears to be true. Every time I looked, there was another message from you”, Demelza stated.

  
“You know I wouldn’t be the man I am today without you and your partnership. Every one of these tributes belong to you just as much if not more so.”

  
She ignored the “I told you so look” he shot her. “Although I didn’t particularly like all the tweets about you and whoever was nearby that kept littering my news feed”

  
Ross shot her a look that said, you’re kidding right?

Demelza continued. “Seriously, can’t women just stand with their hands next to them during photo ops? Do they always have to touch you? That was…”  
“A bore.” He finished the sentence for her. “I just wanted it to be over. This is probably why I drank a bit too much as well. I was—correction--I am--so sick of talking about money, my accent, my hair.”  
His grin left and was replaced by his neutral, business face. Demelza caught the change, and his eyes in all their hazel, whiskey brown glory, lifted and seemed to see right into her. But that didn’t scare her. Demelza recognized the look of annoyance on his face and understood. She moved to the end of the couch, closer to him so she could reach out her hand and grabs his. She held it, firmly, in her palm, slowly rubbing the back of it with her thumb. Expressing comfort and understanding without saying a word. It was this unspoken communication that Ross found amazing. Earlier, during that last receiving line where talk of his possibly being named “2016’s Most Eligible Bachelor” came up again, Demelza felt how uncomfortable he was getting and without much effort, moved her hand to his lower back, just holding it against him, as a sign of reassurance to let him know she was there.

  
She smiled her trademark smile and was rewarded with a look that could melt away any doubt of where his affections laid.

  
**~~~~~~~~~**

  
He looked down at their linked hands and knew that this woman got it and got him. And he let the tension go. Demelza felt it leave him and she gladly accepted it for him. She also felt tears gather in her eyes and knew if she looked up at him, they would escape. Ross loved his work, more than anything and that dealing with the press and the gratuitous nonsense that the media called journalism was part of it. She just wished, for him, that everyone could see past the wealth and beauty of his exterior to the beauty of his soul. Luckily, she was privy to this part of him and that’s what made her love him.

  
Still looking down at their hands, he quietly said, “More than anything Dem, I wanted you there. The drinking was to make the night go faster. It was just one more event where what I looked like overshadowed what I do. I know that I came across looking like a bit of a tool, but I was tired. I didn’t even want to go.”  
“I know, love. And you didn’t look like a tool. You were an adorable, slightly tipsy Irishman. It’s what makes your fans love you.”  
He looked up at her, scanning her face for anything that would reveal something other than what he thought he was feeling or what she said. Finding nothing but her pure heart illuminated through those sea green orbs.

 

Looking down at their linked hands, Ross said, “And you? Do you love me?” He slowly raised his head to look directly into her eyes. Demelza broke out into a grin that rivaled the sun and took the bait.  
“I could learn to.” Demelza moved off the couch. “In fact, I think I’ve already passed that lesson.”  
She pushed Ross back in the chair, opened his arms and sat in his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and finally, took that tie out that held his hair in place. Running her fingers through to let it loose, she moved her head down to his upturned face and kissed him. Not with passion or lust or urgency. But love.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into fiction of any kind but this idea wouldn't leave and so I put it down on paper. Or rather on a word doc. Not sure if it's good or not but it needed to get out of my head. Editing is not perfect, but the intent is from the heart.  
> Please leave kudos, comments and acknowledgements. I'm a tough cookie from NY so I can take it.  
> Many thanks to rainpuddle13 and mmmuses for their hand-holding and encouragement on the original idea. Hope its transformation meets expectations.  
> And thanks to Lin-Manuel Miranda for use of the title...."Hamilton" fits every occasion.


End file.
